The Darkest Part
by Riter's Fury
Summary: The last thing Oliver needed was Slade Wilson escaping from prison. He was already dealing with superhumans on a crime spree and the sudden appearance of his estranged brother Max, to make matters worse there's a Dark Knight in town. When Oliver and Slade discover they have a common enemy will they work together or will the darkness of their past be impossible to overcome?
1. Chapter 1

**The Darkest Part**

Riter's Fury

A/N: I started working on this story over a year ago and decided I should post it to celebrate Slade Wilson's return to Arrow. Hopefully, some of you out there will enjoy it. The story is set during season 3.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Atticus flexed his long, capable fingers as he waited in the dark alley. In earlier years, his hands had been more adept to academic work, but now they felt just as comfortable doing dirty work. The dumpster he crouched behind smelled vile, and dripped a reddish brown liquid that he couldn't rule out as blood. His lab had always been clean, the sight of dirt and filth used to repel him, but he had long since moved beyond that. He checked his watch and smiled. It should be happening any moment.

It had been too long since working in the field. It felt good. So good, Atticus might have a hard time giving it up again. The familiar feeling of adrenaline, the thrill of the challenge, it was all a drug to him. He had to stay in control, or risk losing everything. His work was much too important and profitable to risk over some foolish addiction.

He shifted his weight, trying to keep his excited muscles from showing his impatience. A noise across the alley caught his attention as a rat scurried out from under a soggy cardboard box and disappeared into the darkness. A stillness settled over the alley, but the hair standing up on the back of his neck warned him he wasn't alone.

"You have information for me." a deep voice spoke. It was hardly a question, but more of a demand.

Atticus stood and turned. He smiled at the dark silhouette of the caped figure. "Yeah, that's right."

When Atticus didn't continue the man barked. "I'm waiting."

"They're called meta-humans."

"That's all you have. I ruled that possibility out weeks ago."

Atticus chuckled. "Just checking to see if you've done your homework."

"And apparently you haven't." The caped figure seemed to grow in the shadows. "I don't like my time wasted."

"All right, all right. I might have something." Atticus flicked his wrist downward causing a small vial with a needle to slip out. He smiled again. "But I'm going to need something from you first."

* * *

 _One week later_

"I need to know where this guy is now!" Oliver shouted as he and Roy zoomed down the street on their motorcycles.

"Give me a second," Felicity answered, in his ear piece. "I'm only one person." She paused. "Gotcha. Take your next left, he's two streets over riding a... Where did he get a horse?"

Oliver's right leg brushed against a lamppost as he made a quick turn. "Did you just say horse?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's a first," Roy said as they roared into the warehouse district.

"Stay on him," Oliver ordered. "I'm gonna try cutting him off."

"Got it," Roy answered, speeding ahead. He knew if the robber continued on his current course he would come to a large parking lot with nowhere to hide.

It didn't take long before Roy caught sight of the man on horseback. The rider looked as if he had stepped out of an old Western film—he even wore silver spurs and a Colt Peacemaker strapped to his side.

Roy shook his head. The criminals in this city were getting ridiculous. "Guys, we've got another one playing dress up."

"Oh, dear," Felicity said.

"Give it up," Roy shouted to the cowboy.

The man ignored him. Reaching out with his left hand Roy grabbed at the reins to slow the horse down. In hindsight, he realized it was a poor decision, considering he had no idea how to actually slow a horse. Watching Westerns on Saturday afternoons as a kid didn't prepare him for this. The horse veered toward him, forcing Roy to adjust his course. The front tire of his bike scraped the curb and he lost control, skidding across the pavement.

Roy pushed himself off the ground as Oliver fired an arrow in the cowboy's path. It exploded, causing the horse to rear and throw its rider.

"Stay where you are," Oliver yelled.

The cowboy pulled out his gun, but a well aimed arrow knocked it from his hand. Oliver raised his bow and fired again. The Cowboy turned and caught the arrow before it struck him in the knee. He stared at the arrow then at the masked vigilante. Oliver fired two more arrows as he moved closer, yielding the same results. Roy came from behind trying to block the cowboy's escape. They had him. Until the cowboy fell to the ground, his body convulsing. Oliver rushed forward, trying to help him, but within seconds the cowboy was dead.

"What happened?" Felicity asked.

Roy stared down at the man lying on the ground. "We lost another one."

Things were getting out of hand in Starling City. There were half a dozen costumed criminals with enhanced abilities robbing banks, jewelry stores, and museums across the city. Whenever one of the criminals were cornered they collapsed and died. This was the fourth casualty.

Oliver bent down and searched the man's pockets. "Roy, check out the horse. See if there's anything that might help us identify this man."

Roy looked at the horse standing at the other end of the parking lot. "He doesn't look very happy. Are you sure I should... What's that?" Roy knelt down and opened the dead man's hand. Inside, lay a crumpled card with a name and number printed in red on the front. "That's strange."

"What?"

"It's a business card." Roy handed it to Oliver. "Isn't that...?"

"Isn't that what?" Felicity chirped. "What does it say?"

Oliver stared at the name on the card. Maybe it was a mistake, but somehow he knew that was wishful thinking. Taking a deep breath he answered, "It says, _Max Queen_. It belongs to my brother."

* * *

 _Gotham City, one week earlier_

A dark haired tourist glanced at his watch then down the crowded street. Six was late. He frowned, but lifted his camera and snapped a picture of an uninteresting group of people in front of a store window. He looked at the photo on the viewing screen then deleted it. He hated this.

Over the last few weeks there had been a rise of costumed superpowered criminals roaming the streets of Gotham as well as other cities across the country. Not one had been caught alive, and trying to get information from unknown informants in dark alleys had proved pointless and—he rubbed his arm—painful. So this "tourist" had decided to take a different approach to get to the bottom of it. One that meant hanging up his cowl and bringing in an expert, who could find anything, or anyone that didn't want to be found.

Normally, he preferred to work alone, but there were a few people with whom it was actually a pleasure to work alongside. One being the always efficient Max Queen. Unfortunately, to borrow his talent also meant dealing with the unbearable Colton Six, who was already ten minutes late.

Bruce Wayne tapped his earpiece and looked across the street to where Max sat outside a coffee shop reading a newspaper. "If Six doesn't show we're engaging the target without him."

Max flipped the page of his newspaper. "He'll be here. And I'm the only one engaging anyone, remember? If this guy is put under too much stress because he feels threatened, we might lose him too. That's why you're just a tourist today."

"Fine," Bruce grumbled. "But if he comes after you-"

"You can dangle him off a building or something. Six would probably help you."

"If he even gets here."

Bruce rubbed his arm again, which turned out to be a bad idea because it only hurt worse than before. He distracted himself by scanning the area again. He noticed a tall slender woman drinking her coffee while she waited to cross the street. She carried a brightly colored handbag over her shoulder, and wore purple rimmed sunglasses. A boy and his dog passed by her and she took a moment to rub behind the dog's ears. She seemed completely normal, but he knew otherwise. He walked over to the woman and stopped beside her.

"You're working days now," she said.

"When I have to," he replied. "What brings you here, Waller?"

She sipped her coffee. "You're a great detective—I'm sure you can figure it out."

Bruce frowned, watching Max as he spoke. "You've ruined his life enough, don't you think."

"I only made Max the man he is today." She turned and smiled at him. "You're welcome."

Bruce gritted his teeth and would have replied if Six hadn't chosen that moment to make his appearance.

"I've got this Bats," he said. "You look like you're about to blow your cover."

Bruce glared at him, but backed away. He would rather not breath the same air as Amanda Waller anyway.

Waller watched the Dark Knight cross the street before turning her attention to Six. "I know about your little mission here. I have the entire block under surveillance."

Six smirked. "I know, I already said hello to everyone. But good news, you have some job openings. The unemployment rate thanks you."

Waller rolled her eyes. "I would appreciate it if you would stop picking off my people."

"And I would appreciate it if you would leave the kid alone."

Waller glanced at Max. He was hobbling down the sidewalk with the assistance of his cane, following a man with a cowboy hat. "You know that's not going to happen, Six. Max is still my asset."

"You keep thinking that if it makes you feel better."

"I will find a way to talk to him."

"Bats won't let you near him, and I sure as hell won't either. So talk, or I'm gone, and so is your chance to hire Max."

Waller took a small flash drive and slipped it into the pocket of Six's jacket as she pretended to straighten it. "All the information you need is on there."

"I'd like a little more to go on then an excuse for you to get your hands on me." He smiled.

Waller felt the urge to roll her eyes again. Six always had that effect on her. "The subject is a boy, age thirteen, who dropped out of sight seven years ago. I need Max to find him."

Six sighed. "You need to do better than that."

"Better?"

"Yeah, like your diabolical plan for ruining this kid's life. Did he accidentally win one of your recruiting games."

"This isn't that."

"Convince me." His dark eyes danced with mischief.

Waller stepped within inches of him and whispered. "I need the boy's father to do something for me, but I'm afraid he lacks the proper motivation."

Six smiled again. He did that far too much for her liking. "Is that all?" he said. "Nothing sinister about that."

She backed away, crossing her arms. "Enough with the games, Six. Will you take the job, or not?"

"It's up to Max. I let him make all the decisions these days."

"This is a priority."

"So are my weekend plans."

"You have an hour to decide."

"Make that three and I'll put in a good word for you. Maybe we can even work together on this."

Waller raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so."

"It's fun to imagine what that might be like though." He tapped the side of his head as he drifted into a group of tourists. "Something to think about."

* * *

 _Present day_

Oliver swiveled in his chair, trying not to fall asleep while he inspected his equipment. Staying up all night chasing after masked criminals was catching up with him. The dead cowboy from last night only reminded him how much they still didn't know about this case. Felicity had been tracking similar occurrences in other cities across the country, trying to gather more intel, and it appeared law enforcement agencies everywhere were getting the same results. Dead suspects and no answers.

If these people started using their enhanced abilities for more than robbing banks and jewelry stores they could have something similar to Slade's mirakuru army on their hands. Oliver didn't want to think about that possibility.

And then there was the business card with his brother's name on it. He was hoping no one would mention it. As desperate as they were for leads, that was one he didn't want to follow. He'd find another way, any other way, but that.

"How's it going," Diggle asked, descending the metal stairs.

"It's not," Oliver replied.

"That bad, huh?"

"I got another hit," Felicity said, clicking away at her keyboard. "A bank was robbed last night in Gotham City, by a man in a cow costume."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Arkham Asylum didn't have a breakout? That seems to happen a lot."

"Funny, but no I already checked. Some guy ripped the door off the bank's safe using his bare hands and took everything inside ."

"I'm not getting this whole costume thing with these guys," Roy said, leaning back in his chair.

"I think the costumes are just meant to hide their faces and mask their height and build, so no one can get an accurate description of them," Diggle said.

Oliver stood and walked to Felicity's desk, where he studied the monitors over her shoulder. "What happened to him?"

Felicity scrolled through the information on the screen. "Well, his body is in the Gotham morgue, so they haven't made any more progress than we have."

Oliver paced the room. "We're not getting anywhere."

Everyone stared at Oliver for a few moments before Roy spoke up. "What about the card with your brother's name on it?"

"Yeah, I still don't understand how that ended up in the dead guy's hand last night?" Felicity said. "Wait, your brother's not involved with this stuff is he?"

"No, of course not, Felicity." Oliver rubbed his eyes. "Max isn't that kind of person."

"Well, I didn't mean to imply he was a bad person, just that maybe he got caught up in something bad and..." Felicity turned back to her computers. "Never mind."

"Oliver, you have to admit it's strange and worth looking into," Diggle added. "I know you've said before that things were a little rocky between you two, but-"

"Rocky is a bit of an understatement," Oliver said.

"But at this point any lead is worth checking into," Diggle replied.

Felicity turned in her chair to face Oliver. "The Arrow could pay him a visit and he'd never need to know it was you."

Oliver flinched. "That's not a good idea. Max would never talk to him."

"Why not?"

"Max has this..." Oliver squinted trying to think of the right word, "gift for seeing through people. He'll know it's me and I don't want the first time I see my brother in seven years to be spent lying to him."

Felicity stood and faced Oliver. "We can't just ignore this because you're afraid to see your brother. We need to do something before it's too late."

Oliver looked away, letting the room and everyone in it fade.

Felicity touched his arm. "We all make mistakes, Oliver."

He knew Felicity was right. She had this way of bringing him back to reality when he was determined to stay lost in the darkness, focusing on all the wrong things that would only make matters worse.

He let out a deep breath, bringing the room back into focus. "I'll give Captain Lance a call and see if he's looking into it."

Felicity smiled. "Good. I'll get him on the phone."

A few minutes later a reluctant Oliver was talking to Captain Lance.

"Last week an astronaut this week a cowboy, can things get any stranger?" Lance chuckled.

"Captain, did you find the business card in the cowboy's hand?" Oliver said, his voice disguised with the usual electronic tone changer.

"Yeah, we did. Kind of strange. I gave Mr. Queen a call. As luck would have it he's actually in town on business. He's coming in this afternoon to see if he can help."

Oliver hesitated a moment. Max was here in Starling City. How had he missed that? "Did he say anything about why the man had his card?"

"Said he was a client, but couldn't say anything more over the phone. I know the kid, he was always a little odd, but he's smart. Hopefully, he'll have information to shed some light on this. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Thank you, Captain."

Oliver ended the call, rubbing his tired eyes. Max had come home, but why? Certainly not to see him. Not after all this time. Part of him felt excited, but another apprehensive. He couldn't pretend their reunion would be all warm and fuzzy, in fact it would be quite the opposite. There were things that had been done and said between them that couldn't be easily resolved or forgotten. Things The Arrow couldn't help him fix.

"So..." Felicity said. "Did Captain Lance find out anything?"

"Apparently, our cowboy use to be one of my brother's clients."

Felicity adjusted her glasses. "Okay... Anything else?"

"We'll know more later today after Lance meets with him."

"Your brother's in Starling City?" Diggle said.

Felicity scanned one of her computer screens. "How did I miss that?"

Oliver crossed his arms and stared at the floor. "Max doesn't like to be noticed."

"I guess he's not here for a family reunion then," Roy said.

"I don't think so."

Diggle leaned against a table. "What are you going to do, Oliver?"

"Nothing. He clearly has no intention of seeing me because I didn't even know he was in town. We'll just wait to see what Lance has to say and in the meantime we should all get some rest."

Oliver headed toward the stairs. Felicity followed and watched him disappear through the door. "You think he's going to see his brother?" she asked.

"Probably not," Diggle said.

Felicity turned toward him. "This case just got more complicated, didn't it?"

Diggle sighed. "I think so."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Max tried to ignore the plaque on the wall in Captain Lance's office. It wasn't what the plaque stood for that bothered him, it was the crooked angle it hung at. He knew he had a problem. Six reminded him of it daily, but he couldn't help that he liked things to be orderly. It helped him think.

He looked out the office window to the large room swarming with detectives and officers going about their duties at the precinct. He checked his watch. The officer who brought him here had told him the Captain would only be a minute or two. It had been five. He twisted his cane between his fingers.

Yes, he had another problem. He liked it when people were punctual, but that had been something he'd learn to deal with better than untidiness. Six was always late, or early, but never on time. He called it unpredictable. Max called it paranoia.

Captain Lance finally walked in straightening his tie. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Queen. This recent crime wave keeps me busy."

"I understand. It's not a problem," Max lied.

Lance sat down at his desk and shuffled through some papers. "Like I told you on the phone we still don't have a name for this guy. We can't find him in any database, so I was hoping you might have something to point us in the right direction."

"I'm afraid I don't have much. I didn't get a name either."

"And that didn't strike you as odd when the suspect hired you."

"In my line of work it's not uncommon for people to remain anonymous, or give a false name. It's just something you get used to."

"What exactly did this man hire you for?"

"Well, that's the thing, he hired me to find out who he was. He didn't remember."

Lance leaned back in his chair. "Was he suffering from amnesia or something?"

"I'm not a doctor, so I can't really say, but I'm sure he had no idea who he was."

"So were you able to find out anything about his identity?"

"Unfortunately, no. He only hired me a week ago and I had business out of the country to attend to first. I was here to meet him, which is why I was in town when you called."

"Were you aware your client was involved in criminal activity?"

"No."

Lance rubbed his chin. "So I have a dead suspect with no identity. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Maybe you still can. How much do you charge for a consulting fee?"

* * *

Laurel hurried down the sidewalk, clutching a take out bag. The food was probably cold by now. Her car had decided to break down that morning, which meant she was getting a lot of exercise. She would be glad when she went to get her car from the shop at the end of the day. Her body was a little sore from last night's patrol as the Black Canary.

Her phone chimed and she tucked the take out bag under her arm, so she could dig her phone out of her purse. During her struggle to find it she accidentally bumped into someone going the opposite direction.

She looked up, apologetic, "I'm sorry— Max? Max Queen?"

The man turned and tried to smile. "Laurel."

"It's so great to see you." She pulled him into a hug even though she knew Max had never really understood or liked them. She stepped back and looked at him. He wore the usual vest, tie and blazer all perfectly pressed. "How are you?"

"Well, enough I suppose." He looked down at his crooked leg. "I'll never run again, but that's what happens when you fall off a balcony."

A sad smile spread across Laurel's lips. Max could be so brutally honest about things that most people would want to avoid. "What brings you here?" She gestured toward the police station. "I hope everything's all right."

"Your father just hired me to help with one of his cases."

"Wow, really?"

"You sound surprised."

"No, that's great."

"You don't have to pretend. I know he always thought I was a weird kid."

"You weren't weird, you were just...different." She smiled.

"Which is just a nicer way of saying I was weird."

Laurel shook her head. "It seems like you turned out fine to me, regardless of your weirdness. From what I hear you have a very successful business."

Max's brow furrowed. "Where did you hear that?"

Laurel almost laughed at his serious face. For most people that would have been a good thing, but she knew how much Max desired anonymity. He had never done well with all the attention the Queen family attracted. "I had to dig deep to find anything," she said. "I just wanted to know how you were and it's not like you're on social media or anything."

"I'm afraid I don't have time for socialization on electronics."

"Well, I'm sure Oliver and Thea will be glad to see you."

Max looked down at his watch. "Yes..."

She had seen that look on his face before. He wanted to be doing anything but talking about Oliver right now. She knew the history all too well. "You can't avoid him forever."

"I've done a pretty good job so far."

Laurel crossed her arms. "And you're proud of that?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes, instead he scratched at the ground with his cane. "Resigned to it."

She sighed. "You may not want to see Oliver, but don't let that stop you from seeing Thea. After everything she's been through family is what she needs right now. She has a club—"

"I know." Max looked at her. "Contrary to this cities gossip magazines, I'm not a robot completely devoid of emotions."

"I never thought that."

A black car came to a stop at the curb and an older gentleman got out. "This is my ride," Max said.

"Well, I'm glad you're home, Max. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

He nodded, walking toward the car where an older gentleman opened the door for him. "Thanks, Alfred." He was about to step inside when he suddenly turned back to Laurel. "Tell Sara I said hello."

Laurel felt a little uneasy. His words seemed so intentional as if he wanted to see if she would flinch. She wondered if he knew Sara was really dead, but how could he? And why did it really matter. She knew if you valued your friendship with Max you didn't lie to him. But how could she admit something to him that she wasn't willing to admit to herself. "Yeah, I will."

* * *

 _Eight years ago_

" _Slow down, Max," Sara said, grabbing onto his arm. She knew immediately he would hate it, but it was the only way to stop him before she collapsed from exhaustion. "Why...are we...running," she gasped, looking behind her. They'd left Laurel and Oliver a few streets back somewhere._

" _Didn't you see the guy following us?" he said, not breathing heavily at all._

 _Sara tried to figure out when he'd gotten so good at running. She put her hands on her head, trying to catch her breath. "What guy? And why would anyone want to follow boring old you?" she teased._

" _Because of that contest."_

" _So you won some contest and now you think people are following you. That doesn't make any sense."_

 _Max headed off down the sidewalk. "I don't expect you to understand."_

 _Sara reluctantly followed, but then her house was only a block away at this point. She could collapse on the couch when they got there. "Wait up, Max. You're serious about this, aren't you?"_

" _I've only been saying it for weeks."_

" _Yeah, I know. Maybe we should do something about it then."_

" _Like what?"_

" _Tell my dad. Have him look into it."_

 _Max was quiet for a moment until suddenly he grabbed onto her arm. "There he is again," he whispered. "See, that green car."_

 _Sara looked down at the hand now clutching her wrist and then at the car passing them on the road. The quick glimpse she caught of the man behind the wheel reminded her of someone, although she couldn't place him. Maybe she had seen him earlier. She couldn't be sure. She was starting to get a little creeped out though. "If someone was following you why would they be so careless to let you see them?"_

" _I don't know."_

" _What should we do," she whispered._

" _I have an idea," a breathless Oliver said from behind them. "Let's not randomly break out into a run for no reason."_

 _Max clenched his fists. "This is serious, Oliver."_

" _So is you running off. Mom would kill me if you got lost."_

" _I don't get lost."_

" _He thinks someone is following him." Sara blurted out. She wasn't sure Max wanted her to share that information, but they couldn't keep it to themselves._

 _Oliver shook his head. "That again, Max, really?"_

" _He's not making it up," Sara insisted. "I saw a guy drive by."_

" _Guys drive by all the time," Oliver said. "It doesn't mean they're following you."_

 _Laurel put a hand on his arm. "Ollie, maybe we should talk to my dad about it. He might be able to help."_

 _Oliver crossed his arms. "You do remember who we are? There's no way we can keep this quiet."_

* * *

Oliver hadn't expected to spend the last three hours in an internet cafe, drinking terrible coffee while Googling his brother. Resorting to an internet search seemed like a bad way to catch up with family, but Oliver didn't have much choice. His mother never spoke about Max when she was still alive and Thea hardly mentioned him.

He sipped his now cold coffee as he scrolled through the search results. There wasn't much. He already knew about the accident that had left Max's left leg crippled, but he read the several articles about the incident anyway. Nothing new there. Everything else that mentioned Max were articles in Starling City tabloids, which speculated about whether or not he was some type of robot.

This was hopeless.

Oliver leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He knew this would have been a lot easier if he had just asked Felicity to help, but he didn't want to get her involved. At least not yet. There would be too much history to catch her up on and he wasn't sure he was ready to tell her everything. But maybe he wouldn't need to. There was someone that already knew everything. Or at least mostly everything.

He picked up his phone and stared at it. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. But what other options did he have. He scrolled through his contacts and selected a number. He waited while the phone rang. It finally went to voicemail. Leaving a message suddenly felt more awkward, but he forced himself to speak.

"Hey, Laurel...it's Oliver. I know things haven't been the best between us lately, but Max is back..." He exhaled. He didn't know what else to say. "Just give me a call if you can, please."

He ended the call and tossed his phone on the table. There was nothing more to do here. He swallowed the last of his coffee and left.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself back in Verdant's basement trying to distract himself with several rigorous training exercises. He focused on his movements, his heart beat, losing himself in a world that had become strangely comforting to him. As the minutes ticked by he felt his limbs grow heavy, but he pressed on. Stopping meant thinking and thinking meant... His surroundings blurred.

" _You said you believed me," Max yelled._

" _I do, but-"_

" _You wouldn't let her send me away if you did."_

" _It's not that simple," Oliver insisted._

" _I trusted you."_

Oliver closed his eyes and breathed deeply. So much for not thinking.

"Hey, Oliver, you might want to see this," Felicity called from her desk.

Glad to have an interruption Oliver hurried over to look at one of Felicity's monitors.

"I think there's a problem upstairs," she said.

Oliver frowned. This definitely wasn't the interruption he was hoping for.

* * *

Max found Thea's club, Verdant, with ease. He had wondered why at her age she was allowed and even encouraged to be a part of an atmosphere that he had always found loud and distasteful. He would never understand the need for young people to congregate in a room to dance and drink while a DJ blared music. If you could even call it music. At least the place was quiet now except for an argument over something Max couldn't quite make out.

Thea was standing by the bar showing a piece of paper to a delivery man. "I'm still three bottles short."

The man shook his head. "I'm telling you I counted everything myself and it all checks out."

"Well, I'm telling you it doesn't, so I'm not paying for what I didn't get."

"Sorry, lady, but you already paid and we don't do refunds."

"That's a little convenient. I should go look in your truck maybe I'll find my missing booze." Thea headed toward the door.

The man grabbed her arm. "You can't do that, lady."

Thea shook off the man's grasp. "Get off me you, creep."

Max hobbled toward his sister. "Hey, is there a problem here?"

Thea's eyes widened. "Max?"

The delivery man jumped, but when he saw the man with the cane coming toward him he relaxed. Max was not an intimidating figure. It was quite obvious by the way he leaned on his cane that he couldn't move very fast and the man wasn't too concerned that he would pose a threat to him.

"Nothing that's any of your business," the man replied.

"I'd say it was my business the moment you manhandled my sister," Max responded. "Now return the items she ordered-"

"Or what?"

"You'll regret it."

The delivery man laughed and stabbed his finger into Max's chest. "What are you gonna do, pretty boy? Beat me with your cane?"

Max smiled to mask his irritation at having his personal space invaded. "That would be a waste of my time. Return the missing items from the order now."

"I don't have time for this." The man shoved Max to the floor.

Thea rushed over to Max. "Are you okay?" She hardly waited for a response before she turned on the man fists balled. "You shouldn't have done that."

Max stared at his sister. He wasn't entirely sure what she was about to do, but it looked as if she wanted to rip the man's head off. Max had never seen her eyes filled with so much anger. It actually scared him a little.

"Thea, do you need help with something?" someone asked.

Max didn't need to turn. He knew Oliver was standing behind him. All his plans to avoid him had been ruined. And here Oliver was rushing in to save the day while Max struggled to get to his feet. He couldn't even protect his own sister.

"Max was just telling this guy to return my stolen merchandise, maybe another word of encouragement would do the trick," Thea said, raising an eyebrow at the shady delivery man.

"I don't have to take this," the man said trying to push past Oliver.

Oliver didn't budge and the man stared at him with wide eyes. "You really don't want to make me ask," Oliver said in a low tone.

"I'll check the back of my truck again," the man said.

"Great," Oliver said. "You do that."

"And I'll go with you to make sure you don't take off," Thea said. She gave Max a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're home, Max. Don't disappear on me. I'll be right back." She rushed off after the delivery man leaving the brothers alone.

Max didn't look at Oliver. He couldn't.

Oliver put his hands in pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. "It's good to see you, Max."

"Is it?"

"Yes. It's been a long time."

"I knew you weren't dead," Max blurted out still not looking at his brother. " _She_ wouldn't believe me."

Oliver knew "she" meant their mother. Max had long since stopped calling her that. "I'm sorry."

Max tapped his finger rapidly against the side of his cane. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anymore."

Oliver studied his shoes for a moment before clearing his throat. "So what brings you to town?"

"I'm helping with a police investigation." Max's finger slowed. "Captain Lance hired me."

"Really?"

"You sound just like Laurel."

"You saw her?"

"Yeah, we talked," Max replied. "And she lied to me about Sara." Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Oliver shift nervously. "Sara's dead again, isn't she?" Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but Max cut him off. "You're a terrible liar. Don't bother."

"Max—"

"Let's just skip this part where we pretend everything's okay."

"If I could take back everything that happened—"

"But you can't, Oliver." Max finally looked at him. "I need to go. Tell Thea I'll come by to see her another time."

* * *

When Thea finally finished with the delivery man she found Oliver sitting alone at the bar. He looked a little lost as he stared off at the wall, holding a half empty glass in his hands.

She slipped onto the stool beside him. "I take it things didn't go so well."

Oliver exhaled. "No, it didn't. Max said he'd come by some other time."

"I hoped maybe things would be different."

"What do you mean?"

"Max was so broken up when we thought you were dead. He didn't leave his room or talk to anyone for weeks I guess when he didn't come home after you did I should have known things hadn't changed."

"I don't think they ever will, Thea," Oliver replied, twisting the glass between his fingers. "Max gave up on me a long time ago."

Thea crossed her arms on the counter and glanced at her brother. "He looked for you, Ollie. And he didn't stop until the day mom finally _made_ him stop."

Oliver looked up. "Made him stop?"

"She took his computers, all his research and burned everything."

"She shouldn't have done that. Max needs to find things when he's upset. She knew that."

"And she knew he wouldn't stop even if he couldn't find you. I guess she was trying to protect him in her own strange way. She didn't want to lose him too."

"She'd already done that a long time ago." Oliver stood up and walked a few steps away. "Why didn't someone tell me all this."

"Mom didn't want you to know. She wasn't proud of it."

Oliver put his hands on his head. How many more things could go wrong with his family. It always seemed as if he was finding out something new. Someone cleared their throat and he turned to find Felicity and Roy standing nearby.

"Umm, Oliver," Felicity said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I talk to you for a minute."

Oliver looked at sister.

"Go ahead, Ollie," Thea said, sliding off her stool. "Roy's here to help me unpack my order anyway."

Thea and Roy went off to the store room and Oliver joined Felicity.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"You might want to sit down."

"I'm fine."

"It's really, really bad, you might be better off—

"Just tell me, Felicity."

She exhaled. "Slade Wilson escaped from prison."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _Eight years ago_

 _Oliver turned off his car and pushed open the door. It was late and judging by the darkness of the house he thought everyone must be sleeping. He stepped out of the car and made his way toward the front door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark blur rush out of the bushes. It collided with him and they both fell to the ground._

 _The commotion gained the attention of the motion sensor lights, which flooded the driveway illuminating what or who the dark blur had been._

" _Max," Oliver whispered. "What are you doing out here? You promised if I dropped you off in town you'd come home before dark. "_

 _Max looked over his shoulder. "They're following me."_

 _Oliver looked his brother over noticing his disheveled and dirty appearance. Max was never untidy or dirty. "What happened to you?"_

 _Max grabbed Oliver's arm. "They won't leave me alone."_

 _Oliver glanced toward the house and then pulled his brother off into the cover of the bushes. "No one's following you, Max. You need to stop this. If mom hears you—"_

" _I'm not making this up, Oliver. Someone is out there watching me and I don't know why."_

 _Oliver looked down at Max's hand still gripping his arm. It was unlike Max to hold onto someone like that. "Can we talk about this tomorrow? It's two AM."_

" _Please, Ollie..." Max's voice cracked. "I need your help."_

 _Oliver didn't know what to do. Max had been talking about someone following him for weeks. It had been checked out with no threat found, but had stirred up a lot of unwanted media attention. Their mother said Max had an overactive imagination and they should just ignore him, but this didn't seem like that. Oliver swallowed the lump in his throat. If their mother found out he was listening to Max she would be livid. But in this moment he found the distressed look on his brother's face to be more troublesome than the wrath of his mother. He knew he might regret his decision later, but he couldn't let his brother down._

" _Okay, Max. Where do we start?"_

* * *

Bruce Wayne rummaged through his large equipment bag in the loft apartment. He wasn't looking for anything particular, but he'd been pretending to be busy for the past twenty minutes to avoid conversation. Six sat on a worn couch finishing off the last bits of a large pizza. He hadn't even offered to share. Not that Bruce really cared.

Six pushed away the empty box and laced his fingers behind his head. "You know, Starling City already has a mascot, right?"

"Your point?" Bruce said.

"You might have some company lurking around in the shadows."

"As long as it's not you I'll be fine."

Six smirked. "It might be interesting watching you interact with your own kind. Vigilantes are a peculiar sort. Maybe you should start a support group. That way you can all save the world together."

"I prefer to work alone."

"Yeah, you've said that. But here we are. Working together...again."

Bruce glanced at his watch. He hoped Max would be back soon. He wasn't in the mood to put up with Six's obnoxious behavior. "I am working with Max. You were supposed to be out of the country on business."

"I finished early. And I couldn't miss this." Six gestured toward the bag sitting on the table. "The search for the missing batarangs. I mean, you wouldn't be looking in that bag just to avoid talking to me."

Bruce grunted and changed the subject. Because if they were going to talk, he wanted to direct the conversation. "Max told me about Waller's job offer."

"Which he decided not to go through with."

"After he located the boy she was looking for." Bruce walked around the table and stood in front of Six with his arms crossed. "But Max didn't know he was working for Waller did he?"

Six stood up. "Are you accusing me of lying to him."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Six shrugged. "So I withheld certain information. I had my reasons."

"You always do. You realize who the boy is?"

"Yes, and like you I'm curious why Waller wanted to find him."

The door to the apartment opened and Max walked inside giving the door a firm shove behind him. He made sure the multiple locks were fastened before acknowledging the two men. He stared for a moment knowing he had interrupted something.

"Please don't get any blood on the carpet," Max said, moving into the industrial style kitchen. "It will never come out."

Six chuckled, but Bruce ignored the comment. "Where's Alfred?" he asked.

Max opened the refrigerator and pulled out a yogurt. "He said he had to get back to Gotham. Something about Dick breaking something."

"Great," Bruce mumbled.

"I probably wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"Nevermind. How was your meeting?"

"Well, Captain Lance wants me to work with him on this cowboy case."

"I guess I should unpack my bag then," Six said, crossing the room. He settled onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. "Anything else?"

Max stared into his yogurt. "Earlier when Lance asked me to come in, I had to tell him the cowboy was my client."

"Oh, so it's okay when you lie to people."

"How else was I supposed to explain why he had my business card?"

"You gave it to him. What's so wrong about that?"

"I think you can figure out why I didn't want to explain the full set of circumstances leading up to that moment."

"Yeah, I suppose it might be difficult to explain him." Six nodded toward Bruce who was inspecting one of his batarangs. "I mean, look at him, he thinks he's a bat. How crazy is that?"

Bruce growled. "You realize I can hear you."

"It's generally more productive to insult someone when they're listening."

Max shook his head. "I think we should just focus on why the cowboy was here in Starling City and why he wanted to meet."

"Are we really going to keep calling him that?" Six asked. "I feel like we could be a little more creative than just 'cowboy'."

Bruce glared at the ceiling. "Are you sure he needs to be here, Max?"

Six put his elbows on the counter. "Chill out, Bats and eat a yogurt or something. You don't need to be so intense all the time."

"Unlike you, I have a city to protect."

"And that's very noble of you, but what are you really expecting to find here. A mad scientist experimenting on people."

"Maybe. I've traced several other enhanced individuals to Starling City. I don't think it's a coincidence."

A knock on the door, interrupted their conversation. Six slid off his stool and went to the door, looking through the small view hole. Bruce noticed his hand move to the gun tucked into his waistband.

"Who is it?" Bruce asked.

Six turned around, glancing at Max. "It's Waller."

"What is she doing here?" Bruce strode toward the door and opened it, barring the entrance to anyone on the other side. Waller was alone. "What do you want?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne," Waller said. "Enjoying a little vacation in Starling City I see."

"You need to leave now."

"I'm actually not here for the reason you think. I'm here to see Six."

Bruce turned on Six. "You invited her here?"

Six still had his hand behind his back, fingers resting on the handle of his gun. "Why would I do that?"

"Six, I wanted to thank you for delivering the boy to me," Waller said. "His father will be much more cooperative now."

Max's face flushed with anger. "What?"

Waller's smile looked more devious than pleasant. "I'm sorry, I thought you were aware."

"What did you do, Six?" Max demanded.

Six grimaced, letting his hand slide off his gun. "I think you've said what you came to say, Waller. You can leave."

"Very well," she said. "Good day, gentlemen." Waller left and Bruce slammed the door behind her.

Six held up his hands. "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Max threw his half eaten yogurt in the trash. He'd lost his appetite. "If something happens to that kid, I'm responsible."

"Nothing is going to happen to him. I made sure of that."

Max moved toward the door. "I have to find him."

Six stepped into his path. "That's what she wants. She must have another job for you and this is her way of reeling you in."

"Get out of my way," Max said through clenched teeth.

Six looked at the determination on the younger man's face and relented. "Be careful." He stepped aside and Max brushed past him and left. Six rubbed the back of his neck. "I know what you're thinking."

Bruce crossed his arms. "Do you?"

"Dangling me off a rooftop really won't be productive."

"Why do you do that?"

"Read your mind?"

"Lie to him."

Six shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm trying to protect him. I think you know a little bit about that. It's not like you've never lied to Dick."

"This is different. You know what it does to Max. Why he still trusts you is beyond me."

"He understands I would do anything to protect him."

"Doing favors for Waller isn't the best way to do that after what she did to him." Bruce noticed a flicker of something in Six's eyes. Anger perhaps, he wasn't sure. Then Six smiled, which didn't seem appropriate under the present circumstances.

"My feet are still on solid ground, so you do want to know what she's up to."

Bruce's frown deepened. "Waller must be desperate if she came to Max with something like this. She probably knew you'd lie to Max because you'd want to know her plan."

"For a man who spends most of his days hanging out in a cave you're actually pretty intelligent. I see a team up in our future."

"Don't get your hopes up. First we need to make sure Waller isn't going to hurt the boy."

"She won't touch him. I made it very clear that you don't mess with the son of a man like Slade Wilson and live to tell about it."

* * *

Slade Wilson paced the floor of his holding cell. He had been doing so for hours. He couldn't rest, wouldn't rest until this situation was resolved.

When the chance to escape from the A.R.G.U.S. prison on Lian Yu had arisen he had been so desperate he hadn't given much thought to how easy it had been. He hadn't made it very far before he was captured and brought to this large room, lit by three dangling lightbulbs.

Through his barred cell in the middle of the room he watched the door. It looked heavy and old, not something you'd find in a sleek government facility. It seemed more likely this was a black site, which meant this mission Amanda Waller was sending him on was definitely off the books. If A.R.G.U.S. even had books.

The rusty hinges creaked in protest as the door opened. Waller entered in her usual business attire. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson."

Slade clenched his fists. "Where is my son?"

"I find it very interesting that you're concerned about him now," Waller replied. "You never tried to find him yourself."

"I had my reasons."

"Perhaps you didn't want him to see the monster you had become."

Slade glared at her, but remained silent.

Waller smiled, tapping the com in her ear. "Bring the boy."

Slade froze. He hadn't expected this from Waller. The door opened again and a burly man walked in dragging someone. A bag concealed the head, but the small frame could only belong to a child. His child. His son.

"Joe?" Slade's voice cracked.

The bagged head moved in recognition, but he received no response. Finally, Waller ripped the bag away revealing the wide, frightened eyes of a young teenage boy. He stared at the imprisoned man and Slade stared back, unsure of what to say. He didn't know if Joe recognized him after all these years.

"Do you remember your father, Joe?" Waller asked.

Joe just blinked and looked up at Waller and nodded.

Waller smiled again. "Good. Perhaps you'd like to visit with him for a little while before I take you back to your room."

Joe glanced at Slade and then nodded again.

"Very well. I'll let you get reacquainted." She turned to leave. "Don't get too comfortable Mr. Wilson. You have mission details to go over later."

The door flew open, banging against the wall. A man stood in the doorway leaning on a cane. "Waller, this has to stop now!"

Waller glanced at her watch. "I'm surprised, Max, you're five minutes later than I expected you."

Max entered the room. "I'm not playing this game with you."

"But here you are." Waller turned to Slade. "Mr. Wilson, I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting Oliver Queen's brother."

The two men stared at each other. For a few moments, Slade forgot about Joe as all his anger and hatred toward Oliver bubbled to the surface. "Why is he here?"

"Max is working with you on this mission," Waller replied.

Slade observed the well dressed young man, who was not only wearing a blazer and tie, but a vest as well. "You've got to be kidding."

"Never judge a book by its cover, Mr. Wilson. Max is one of the best in his field."

"And what field would that be? Fashion?"

"You killed her," Max blurted out.

Slade grabbed onto the bars of his cell. "I've killed a lot of people. You'd have to be more specific."

Max blinked. "I'm taking the boy, Waller."

"You're not taking him anywhere," Slade hissed.

"I agree with you completely, Mr. Wilson," Waller said. "Joe will stay here until both of you complete your mission."

Max turned toward Waller. "You expect me to work for you?"

"If you don't," Waller grasped Joe's shoulder, "your conscience will have a very deep, dark hole in it. And we both know you don't want that."

Slade watched the short exchange, putting the pieces together in his head. "You're the one responsible for bringing my son here."

Max glanced at him. "Indirectly."

"I'm going to kill you."

Max shrugged. "I really don't blame you, but that would be counterproductive. Waller would just kill your son."

Joe pulled away from Waller and moved closer to Max who appeared to be the least threatening person in the room.

Slade watched his son, cower away from him. He hated that. "I promise she won't hurt you, son."

Joe edged behind Max. He looked like he wanted to run, but he wasn't sure what direction to go.

"Say goodbye, to your father, Joe," Waller said. "It's time to leave."

Joe looked frantic. He grabbed onto Max almost knocking him over. Waller's thug yanked Joe away. The boy's mouth opened in a silent scream. Slade imagined he could hear it and then wondered why he hadn't.

He pulled at the metal bars keeping him from his son. They didn't budge. "Leave him alone."

"Your son will be fine as long as you both do your job." Waller handed a bulging file to Max. "This is your mission. I'll leave you to work out details." She smiled. "It's good to be working with you again, Max."

Both men watched her leave and then ignored each other. Slade paced in his cell and Max flipped through the file. Working together wasn't going to be easy. Slade just wanted to rip Max's head off for putting Joe in danger, but that wasn't possible at the moment.

Finally, against his better judgement Slade spoke, "Why couldn't Joe scream?"

Max continued examining the file. "Because he can't."

"What does that mean?"

"An old enemy of yours cut his throat. Joe's mute."

Slade felt as if all the air left his lungs. He turned away, trying to breath. All the times he had thought about Joe, he only pictured his son perfectly happy without him. For years he had been lying to himself and now he couldn't run from the truth anymore. He hadn't been there to protect Joe, but this time would be different. He wouldn't let anything happen to him. Even if he died keeping that promise. Because he always kept his promises. Always.

* * *

"Exactly how long has Slade been gone?" Oliver asked.

Felicity sat down at her desk and typed furiously on her keyboard. "I'm actually not sure. We've been so busy lately I haven't had time to look. When was the last time you checked?"

Oliver thought for a moment. There had been a time where he'd checked on Slade every few hours to make sure he was still locked up. Lately, however, time was something he had little of and he'd hardly had time to sleep never mind make sure his greatest enemy was still in his prison cell.

"It's probably been a couple weeks, maybe more," Oliver admitted. "But why wouldn't A.R.G.U.S. tell us he escaped."

"They're probably embarrassed they can't keep one man in his cell."

Diggle hurried down the stairs with Laurel following behind him. "I was on my way over when I got your text," he said. "I called Lyla. She didn't know about Slade until I told her. She did a little digging and it doesn't seem like there has been any luck locating him."

Felicity turned away from her computer. "Is there really any question where he's headed? He's coming here to finish what he started."

Oliver didn't want to hear that even though he knew Felicity was probably right. There had been so much chaos and death when Slade had marched through the streets of Starling City. Oliver didn't want to relive it so soon.

"Check out all the surveillance cameras in the city," Oliver said. "See if you can find him."

"I'm already on it," Felicity replied. "I started running a search before I came upstairs to get you."

"Is Slade really going to be that careless?" Diggle asked.

Oliver glanced at Felicity's computer. "Probably not, but we don't have any other options right now."

"What about Max?" Laurel said.

Oliver almost glared at her. "No."

Laurel crossed her arms. "Why not? You know how good he is at finding things."

"I don't want him involved. Besides he won't help me anyway."

"He will if I ask him."

Oliver stared her down. "I said no. End of discussion."

Felicity glanced between Oliver and Laurel. The tension between them was almost suffocating. "Okay, then. Maybe we should try to figure out how we're going to find Slade because I for one don't want to think about what he could be up to." Felicity focused on her computer again just as an alert popped up on the screen. "Oh dear. Not now."

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"It looks like there's a few more superpowered freaks wreaking havoc in the city. This time they have a bank full of hostages."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Several gunshots echoed through the lobby of the bank. Customers screamed and fell to the floor wishing they could disappear. A redheaded woman, so gripped by fear she couldn't move, stood staring at one of the masked robbers, her mouth open in a soundless cry.

"On your knees," the man yelled at her.

The demand fell on deaf ears as the woman slipped through the veil of reality and into someplace else. Another patron tried to get her attention, but not soon enough. The robber whacked the woman on the head and she toppled to the floor, unconscious.

The chaos died down soon after and a ripple of dread spread through all the hostages as they sat on the floor unsure of their fates.

"Echo, Foxtrot, keep 'em quite," the leader, Alpha, said. "Bravo, Delta, come with me. Charlie, get the manager."

Charlie, grabbed the lanky gray haired manager and headed to the vault with the rest of them. Echo and Foxtrot stayed behind. They walked the line of cowering bank employees and customers, keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior. Echo looked at his watch and tapped his finger impatiently against the trigger on his gun. He was ready for some action.

Three small black balls rolled across the floor and bumped into Echo's foot. He stared down at them. "What the—"

Smoke poured out from the objects and Foxtrot disappeared from view. Echo heard a commotion coming from the direction he had last seen his comrade. He waved his arms trying to clear the smoke around him. His hand ran into something solid. The skin on the back of his neck crawled.

"Is that you, Foxtrot?" he said.

A fist appeared, slamming into Echo's face. Taken by surprise, he staggered, but didn't fall despite the force behind the punch. He shook off the blow and peered into the dissipating smoke. He could just make out a figure wearing glasses with orange reflective lenses.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," the man with the glasses said.

Echo raised his gun, but an object flew into his hand before he could fire. He dropped the gun, clutching his bleeding hand where a bat shaped piece of metal embedded in his hand.

"Quit fooling around, Six," a gravely voice shouted.

"You really need to loosen up," Six replied.

Echo rushed at Six, taking an unskilled, but powerful swing at him. Six ducked and grabbed onto Echo's wrist, sending him flying over the bank counter.

"That was easy," Six said. "Need any help, Bats?"

Batman had his hands full with Foxtrot who knew how to handle himself in a fight and didn't seem to care how hard anyone or anything hit him.

"I've got this," Batman replied.

"Sure you do." Six glanced back to the bank counter as Echo pulled himself over. "Back for more?" Six asked. The four other robbers rushed out from the back room. "Incoming!"

Batman blocked a hard blow from Foxtrot as he flung a batarang toward the bad guys. It exploded in a flash of blinding light. "Get these people out of here," Batman yelled.

Six moved to help them. Several people were already crawling toward the exit, but others sat frozen along with the unconscious woman. Charlie and Delta managed to escape the blast and were dragging the bank manager down a hallway. Six hurried after them.

Batman noticed Foxtrot's attack waning. Even with his superhuman abilities it didn't appear as if he was in great shape. Batman used that to his advantage, using quick kicks and jabs to tire out his opponent. Foxtrot slipped as he blocked a blow and did a somersault to avoid being pounced on. Breathing heavily he managed to get to his feet, but not fast enough. Batman sent a powerful kick into his chest sending him flying through the front window.

With Foxtrot taken care of for the moment Batman glanced over to the remaining three robbers who pulled themselves to their feet. There was no sign of Six. The rest of the hostages who hadn't escaped hid behind various pieces of furniture. Batman took one step in their direction when a green arrow dug into the floor in front of him.

"I was wondering when he'd show up."

* * *

Oliver hadn't wanted her to come, but Laurel didn't care. People were in danger and judging by the sound of this bank robbery these enhanced humans seemed to be more violent than their predecessors.

Laurel had been about to charge into the bank right along with Oliver and Roy, but something caught her eye. Down the street, past the police set up around the bank, she saw two people with masks dragging an older man out of a building. She wasn't sure how they got there, but she was certain they must be connected to the bank robbery because one of them carried a large duffle bag. However, before she could catch up to them someone else beat her to it.

The man pulled a gun and without ceremony shot one of the robbers. The wounded robber's associate pulled a knife and with a shaky hand put it to the hostage's throat.

"I will kill him," he said.

"I know you will," the other man said. "I also know you're getting tired. Your hand is trembling."

The robber glanced at his hand briefly. "That's nothing."

"You're crashing."

"How do you know—" The robber collapsed to the ground and the hostage took that as an opportunity to run.

"You're welcome," the man called. He then stepped over the bodies and unzipped the duffel bag.

"Don't move," Laurel yelled.

The man looked up, his eyes hidden beneath the orange reflective lenses of his ballistics glasses. "And who are you supposed to be?"

Laurel pointed her staff at him. "Close that bag and leave it on the sidewalk."

He stepped toward her. "I'm not the bad guy here."

Laurel watched him look down at the bag full of money and then at her as if sizing her up. Was he thinking about grabbing the bag and running? She couldn't be sure. It appeared as if he had been trying to rescue the hostage, but now she wondered if he had only been after the money. She decided to take control of the situation before he did.

She attacked, swinging her staff at him. He ducked then spun away and her staff sliced through the air causing her to lose her balance for a moment. She stumbled forward, but he didn't try to attack her. He appeared to be studying her.

"Your outfit's cute and all, but your fighting skills, or lack thereof, are going to get you killed," he said. She rushed forward, swinging at him again, but he easily dodged her attack. "You really have no idea what you're doing. Tell me you're just filling in for someone else."

She swung at him again.

He caught the end of her staff. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then."

She yanked the staff trying to free it from his grasp, but she couldn't.

"It's hard to carry on a conversation when I'm the only one participating," he said.

"I'm a little busy," Laurel replied through gritted teeth.

"That doesn't stop me." He shoved the staff forward and twisted it from her grasp. Then he swung, but at the last minute angled away from her, striking one of the robbers that had recovered and been trying to sneak up behind her.

"Just a little pointer," Six said. "Never become so focused on your opponent, no matter how good looking they might be, that you forget your surroundings." He tossed her the staff. "You're welcome."

"That would imply I thanked you in the first place."

He shrugged. "I'm sure deep down you wanted to."

"I'm not letting you take that money."

"I guess you'll have to try to stop me again."

Laurel grimaced, rushing forward once more. He caught her wrist and twisted it behind her. "You are determined, but I feel like you're trying to be someone you're not."

She tried to shake free from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. "Well, you're wrong," she said.

"Hmm. That's interesting because I'm never wrong."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Maybe, maybe not. I am wondering what you look like without that mask though."

Laurel slammed her foot down onto his boot and brought her elbow up into his chin. He grunted, but somehow managed to swing her around and drop her to the ground.

He stared down at her. "Sorry about that, but if you pick fights with people this is what's going to happen. You might want to find a new hobby that isn't life threatening." And with that he ran off down the sidewalk, leaving her alone with the two dazed robbers and the bag of money.

* * *

Oliver readied another arrow, taking aim at the caped figure only steps away from the terrified civilians. "Stand down," he ordered.

"I'm a little busy doing your job," the man answered.

"I'm only asking once."

The man moved toward the civilians. "I don't have time for this."

Oliver fired and the man dodged the arrow, but not fast enough to prevent it from slicing through his cape. Before Oliver could blink a small object flew toward him and dug into his upper right arm. He ripped out the piece of metal and a trickle of blood spilled out. He hated this guy.

Roy rushed in having finished securing the robber they had seen flying out the window. His eyes widened. "Look out."

Oliver glanced to his left just in time to see a masked man jump toward him. Caught off guard Oliver braced himself for impact. He hit the floor hard, losing his bow as he tried to gain control of the struggle. He realized he had never been this close to the superhumans they had encountered, at least while they were still alive. This guy was strong. Too strong. Oliver wasn't sure he could handle him alone.

The masked man managed to get his hands around Oliver's throat, his vice-like grip, crushing it slowly. Roy jumped in trying to help. He wrapped his arm around the man's neck, managing to distract him long enough so Oliver could break free and roll away. But now Roy was in danger.

The superhuman flipped Roy to the floor and was about to pounce on him. Oliver grabbed his bow, but before he could fire an object like the one that struck him moments earlier thudded into the man's back and emitted an electric shock. The man hit the floor, stunned.

Oliver looked around. The last of the hostages ran out the door while the caped figure lifted a woman into his arms and headed toward the exit. He had just disappeared outside when gunfire erupted.

Oliver and Roy dropped to the floor. "Sure, now you leave," Oliver mumbled.

"What?" Roy said.

"Forget it."

The bullets sprayed above them with no apparent target. The glass windows at the front of the building shattered, leaving behind the empty metal frame. Finally, the hollow clicking of an empty cartridge filled the room.

Oliver lifted his head. "Felicity, are the security cameras still out."

"Yup, sorry guys," she said. "I wish I could help."

"Do we have a plan here?" Roy asked.

"Don't die," Oliver answered.

He jumped up, firing an arrow at the shooter. The man caught it and snapped it in half. Oliver fired again and again with the same result before selecting a special arrow. He fired, but this time when the man caught it the arrow exploded. That seemed to do the trick.

The last robber standing tossed Roy across the room and jumped out the front window, running straight at the police blockade. The police opened fire, but the man crashed through the line of officers and cars, disappearing on the other side.

Oliver let him go, turning back to the man that had caught the exploding arrow. He only appeared to be burned, but was very much alive.

Oliver grabbed him, shoving him against the bank counter. "Who are you working for?"

The man stared back at him, unafraid.

"Who are you working for?" Oliver demanded.

Before any response helpful or otherwise could be given a bullet flew through the glassless windows and struck the man in the head. He fell backward, dead.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the story.


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